


we were always a losing game

by tamagochie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, angsty, royal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27686579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagochie/pseuds/tamagochie
Summary: Hajime Iwaizumi was the king's one and only son; he could have anything he wanted as long as he asked.Anything except you. [Inspired by the song Arcade by Duncan Laurence]
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	we were always a losing game

**Author's Note:**

> (a.n.) : i got the idea while reading the manhwa, king's maker, and i just--i needed to WRITE IT. but for the most part, i was listening to aracade by duncan laurence :> great song, ya'll. 
> 
> (additional warning) : very brief mention/indication of pedophilia

"I-I am yours." You were teary-eyed, glimmering beneath the moonlight as it pierced through the stained glass wall towering the both you. Your stuttering confession had left Iwaizumi's heart floating out of this chest, yet his breaths were hitched in his throat at the sight of you; the cut that left a deep wound on your bottom lip, and the bruises that kissed your skin, reflecting against the light.

" _Make me yours_." You breathed as you tightly held onto the hand cupping your cheek. Devotion was dripping from your words, desperation quivering in your bottom lip as hot tears spilled down your face.

Iwaizumi was a raging fire that was willing to burn down the whole kingdom for you in a heart beat, and your love for him fanned his flames.

He loved you more than anything; more than his title, more than himself, and more than anything he's owned or could ever own. Yet that was the problem; he could have anything as long as he asked, but he couldn't have you.

You were the King's Ward, you belonged to his father and no one was allowed to touch you. But how could he deny you, the woman he's loved since he laid his eyes on you, of something you were begging from _him_?

His gaze settled deep in your eyes as you shook in his gentle grasp. The sight of you coming undone pained him, and he couldn't stand to continue doing nothing. So, in a quick, tender motion, he pulls you into a kiss.

His lips were soft against yours as his hand slips to the back of your head, fingers woven through your hair as he deepened the kiss, and you melted in his hands.

 _This is what happiness feels like_ , you thought as you felt yourself float away. You knew this feeling would be fleeting, sure to be gone as the morning sun rose. But you smiled into his lips anyway, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up from the floor and carried you down the hall and to his chambers.

It wasn't until you felt a soft, cloud-like material pressed against your back had you realize where you were. You pulled back for a moment to find Iwaizumi shadowing over you, eyes brimming with love as he peered over you in confusion, wondering why you had stopped. 

You softly smiled at him, brushing away the stray hair sticking to his forehead before moving you hand over to his cheek. He was such a beautiful man, and he was finally yours. 

His breaths grew ragged, brushing against your bare skin. You felt it over your cheeks, over your shoulders and chest. He smiled at you. He found your body quite small beneath him—fragile too. He didn't want to do anything that would hurt you, and those bruises that stained deep into your skin—that branded you as his father’s and the power that he held in those bloodied, calloused hands reminded him of that.

You saw the pain in his eyes—the regret. You knew what he was thinking, what he was feeling in that moment. That it wasn’t of you, but rather of himself and his inability to protect you. That he couldn't help you because he was nothing more than a son to an abusive King that had no interest in his people—people whom he recognized as nothing but mere chess pieces to a game he'd always win.

"I'll save you from him," He said, determination laced in his words. You saw the way his eyes darkened beneath the moonlight, his jaw clenched, " _I'll_ be King, and I'll save you from all this pain. I'll save you from _him_."

Tears brimmed at your waterline; once again, you found lips quivering, throat dried in pain. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But you knew your King too well. You knew he was threatening as he was powerful, and Iwaizumi saw it.

He dipped down to your neck, peppering kisses onto your skin, doing what you had asked, making you his. He remained gentle, minding the ache in your bones as well as your heart as he continued on.

"I promise I'll save you, "He repeated in a whisper, lips brushing against your ear.

A tender shiver electrified through your body. You had never felt so cared for, so loved. It had always been rather harsh and aggressive during your times with the King; quick and careless as he was more focused on his pleasure rather than yours.

You remembered the day you first bloomed, and the night that crushed you almost immediately.

You weren't a fool, you were well aware of the King's peculiar taste for... _youthful things_. You heard the rumors, seen the proof to match it. You had known the time would come when the King would call for you and do his deeds behind those hellish closed doors.

You remembered how torn you felt. You remembered how you felt everything and nothing all at once. How you the numbness began with a twinkling feeling on the tips of your fingers, and eventually spread throughout your body; yet there had been a continuous throbbing in your chest and a burning ache in your legs.

A painful remind that you were, indeed, no longer a child.

You had expected to stumble back to your chambers—crawling even. But after that night, and every night that had followed, after all had been done, regardless of the hour, Iwaizumi would be waiting for you. He had been sitting on the floor, fiddling with his thumbs until you came out.

You would look at each other in the eyes and sat in the silence. He was young—you both were, but he knew what had happened. He was not an idiot. He knew from the new found trauma in your eyes, he saw it in the tears that pooled down to your chin and the way you flinched when he stood up from the floor before walking towards you.

He'd walk you back to your chambers, and he wouldn't dare touch you. He never touched you, knowing how but he did love you. He loved you the moment he saw you. He loved you even though he knew what went on, and all he wanted to do was protect you.

So as you laid beneath him, with an arm tightly wound around your waist as he held you close against his chest, and the other supporting the back of your head, he scattered kisses over your shoulders, to your neck, across your chest and all over your face. He wanted to make you his in the most innocent way.

He wanted to make you his in _his_ own way.

You felt so grateful you couldn't help but cry at how careful he was with you. You felt his love pour over you as he continued to do nothing else but just kiss you and hold you close.

If you had known it was going to be like this, you would have told him sooner. But you never allowed yourself to be sure, always careful and closed off. Even when Iwaizumi had given you nothing but kindness.

The night continued on and as it did, Iwaizumi held you close. His nose buried deep into the crook of your neck as his arms held you around your waist.He was like a child, clinging onto you so tightly as if you were going to disappear.

"I love you," He whispered into your ear and your cheeks glowed red.

You threaded your fingers through his hair and pressed a kiss on the crown of his head, humming him softly to sleep. "I love you, too, Hajime."

Inevitably, morning came and Iwaizumi woke up feeling empty; you were no longer by his side, cradled in his arms—or rather, cradled in yours. 

Though, remnants of last night soon glimmered in his memory, reminding him of your confession as well as his. How the temples of your foreheads pressed against another as your lips ghosted over his, as he whispered again and again how much he had loved you, and how long he had been holding onto to that love. 

It sent a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. He covered his face, smiling into the palm of his hands. His great love loved him back.

Iwaizumi assumed you must've retreated back to your room before day break, straying away from gossiping eyes. So, he held himself together throughout the day, doing all the things he needed to do, counting the hours until he could see you again.

He had hope to see you during lunch, but the halls were still empty and there wasn't a single trace of you in the places he'd usually find you. You must've shared your time with his father, knowing how demanding he is of your presence.

But he just wanted to see you, and he was beginning to grow antsy, twiddling his thumbs and picking at his bottom lip. But before he could make up his mind and head to your chambers, one of his father's servants called out to him.

"Sire," Iwaizumi averted his attention to the familiar old man standing on the other side of the hall, "your father, the King, requests for your presence outside—in the courtyard." He parted his lips to speak, foolishly forgetting his place. " _Immediately_ , sire."

He sighed defeatedly before nodding his head and following the order.

The air was quite fresh, and Iwaizumi took a deep breath to relish in the moment. Hope lingered in the air, and it undoubtedly felt like a good day. There wasn't a single cloud in sight; birds flew above the walls of castle as the men below practiced their rounds in combat.

Iwaizumi strolled passed them, once he spotted his father across the courtyard, on the other side of the bricked archedway . His father stood tall with his broad back against him, hands clasped together as he looked up.

Iwaizumi furrowed his brows, _He must be enjoying the weather as well_ , he thought.

But as he grew closer, the air around his father was tense. Iwa's legs felt weak and his heart began to thrum harshly against his bones at the the growing anticipation.

"Right there is fine." His father said with his back still turned away from him. His father's voice was guttural, as if he had spent the morning drinking. The shadow of branches swayed over his father's face, shielding him from the sun.

"Good afternoon," Iwaizumi greeted, bowing to his father's back. "How are you, father?"

The King glanced over his shoulder, looking down at his own son with a smirk that tugged the corners of his lips. "Fine day, isn't it?"

Iwazumi simply nodded, "Couldn't be better, father."

"Why don't you step out from beneath the shadows and enjoy this sight with me?" Iwazumi furrowed his brows, puzzled; and though he ought to be wary of his father, he hesitantly stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

He look up, expecting to find the sun filtering through leaves, beaming against his cheeks. But instead, the sight before him made him falter to his knees, bruising into the pavement. His heart swelled in his throat as he gasped for air.

It wasn't branches swinging beneath the afternoon heat.

It had been your body swaying in the wind as it hung on one of the branches of the old oak tree; and all the light in you had gone out.

The King bowed beside his son, just enough for his lips to meet his son's ear. "What will you tell her now?" His tone was proud, mocking his son in his weakness. He circled around his son and stood before him, “I loved her more than you ever could, but I just don’t do well with touching scraps.” 

Iwaizumi’s mouth gaped open; he couldn’t even mutter a sound let alone a single word. He had failed.

Looking down out at the his son, the King brought his foot up to his chin, lifting his head to meet his gaze. The thin lining of metal that wrapped around his father's leather boot stung his skin. "Let this be a lesson not to cross me, and not to make promises one cannot keep."


End file.
